The flip side of what I was saying before is that understanding an aphorism like “Great work is never boring” depends on what we think those things mean. The problem is that this statement can lead us to believe that if we find something boring, it is therefore not great work. This misunderstanding is not just an innocent mistake, it’s a harmful one that can make people refuse the kinds of work that make “great work” truly great.

Trigger Warning: hospitals, illness, nursing, poop

Take another example: nursing. Yes, nursing can be the truly great work of healing and helping people. It can even be that one moment when you suddenly realize what’s wrong and intervene to save the life of someone who would have otherwise died, and you becoming the Shining Knight riding the great steed Adrenaline Rush all the way to self-importance.

But most of the time it’s not. I often say in a ha-ha-only-serious way that my mother is the only person I know who got a college degree so she could spend most of her time wiping butts. Even the ER isn’t always as exciting as you might imagine. While there might be a critical case that you save just in the nick of time, you’re just as likely to encounter a dog-tired nurse doing her end-of-shift documenting (now that can be boring) who looks up at you and asks “How many r’s in diarrhea?”

End TW

Misinterpreting “great work is never boring” to mean “boring stuff is not great work” leads to dissatisfaction when people set out to do great work and then are disappointingly confronted with the mundanity that makes up most of what they have to do to get there. I’d like to suggest a rephrasing that makes the aphorism clearer and potentially less harmful: Great work doesn’t have to be boring.

I believe that the trick here is not to find something that is never boring, or to find enough important moments to make the rest of it worthwhile, although that does help. The real magic here is to use the fact that it’s great work to make even the mundane tedium less boring.

I’m currently studying towards ordination, and one of my topics right now is meditating on the meanings of the Charge of the Goddess. I was struck by the line “All acts of love and pleasure are My rituals.” This made me wonder – does it really mean all acts?

I had already been thinking about changing my attitude to household chores by trying to think of them as acts of love, as gifts that I give to my spouse and myself, rather than tedious annoyances that are never completed. If I remind myself that taking out recycling is part of making sure that we live in a clean, well-organized home, one in which we can better enjoy our lives, then my feelings about it change. Is it still tedious? Definitely. But it’s not as boring, if by boring I mean something that leaves me feeling annoyed that I had to do it at all.

If I take that interpretation, and I believe what the Charge of the Goddess says, it leads me to think that even humble things like dishes and laundry and scooping litter boxes are not just gifts, but also a form of devotions. They are devotions to Brigid, matron of our home, and to all aspects of the divine that are celebrated here. (After all, I can’t do ritual if the floor is covered in laundry – see previous post about logistics!) They’re still tedious, but realizing that dishes need to be done yet again doesn’t have to be a source of endless irritation; it’s an opportunity for me to engage in an act of love. (Not so much an act of pleasure – but hey, it’s an improvement.)

By redefining chores as part of the greater work of living with my family, they become less boring. So I’ll stick with the rephrasing that “great work doesn’t have to be boring.”

Like this:

LikeLoading...

Related

About Literata

Literata is a Wiccan priestess and writer. She edited Crossing the River: An Anthology in Honor of Sacred Journeys, and her poetry, rituals, and nonfiction have appeared in works such as Mandragora, Unto Herself, and Anointed as well as multiple periodicals. Literata has presented rituals and workshops at Sacred Space conference, Fertile Ground Gathering, and other mid-Atlantic venues. Literata offers healing and divination services as well as customized life-cycle rituals. She is currently completing her doctoral dissertation in history with the support of her husband and four cats.

4 Responses to Making great work less boring, part 2: attitudes

Coming from a different spiritual tradition, I try to imagine that I am doing house work in a monastery. No doubt the monks can often find the work tedious, but I imagine that ideally they would be aware that that doing the dishes is an act of love towards the other members of the community. Just as my housework should be an act of love for my family, and for my deity.

Pots and pans continue to be big challenge for me though. Even cleaning the toilets is easier; I have no idea why.

Very cool! Another approach that I’ve heard of is from the Buddhist tradition – when washing dishes, imagine that each dish is the baby Buddha. I think there are lots of ways of making something like this work in several different contexts.

Hmm. I think everyone has their own bugaboo, too, that just doesn’t really get easier. I know laundry is one of mine.

See, I like laundry okay because I can put on music; the solution here may be an iPod. Pots and pans are a different thing, though: big pots are awkward and unmanageable and get water all over me, and pans always have enough stuff caked on that I don’t think I ever get them clean enough.

More to the point, though: this is an excellent post, and helps with some things I’ve been thinking about myself. I think this time of year lends itself to that mindset; there’s a lot of Just Getting Through It, and it’s harder to see that as worthwhile in itself. So thank you!

Disclaimer

Please note that everything on Works of Literata is my personal opinion. None of it represents the opinions, positions, or speech of any organization I am associated with.
I do not have control over the advertising shown by WordPress; it does not reflect my opinions.